


An Almost Bad Day

by LonelyIntrovert



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Angst, F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 16:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6017227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyIntrovert/pseuds/LonelyIntrovert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patsy gets rushed to the hospital and Dr. Turner is a real bro. Patsy/Delia one-shot (fluff)</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Almost Bad Day

“How was Mrs. Thompson?” Trixie asked in greeting as Patsy came in with a tired huff.

Shooting Trixie a knowing glance, Patsy responded tersely, “Healthy baby boy.” Trixie smirked and patted the ginger on the shoulder as she swept past her into the kitchen to put the kettle on. 

“..and the mother?” Trixie prodded jokingly as Patsy groaned and collapsed into a chair at the table.

“An absolute nightmare,” Patsy said with a muffled voice. Confused, Trixie turned and saw that Patsy had laid her head down on the table, into her folded arms. 

“She kept on begging for gas-and-air,” Patsy continued in a dead-beat manner, “But everything was perfectly under control, I saw no point in called Dr. Turner all the way out to the East End for no reason. So I told her, I said, ‘Either you have it here, or you have it at hospital’.”

Trixie poured two cups of the tea and placed one in front of Patsy while asking, “Did that set her straight?”

“Hardly,” Patsy sighed hotly, taking her piping mug in hand, “She seemed most adamant at keeping it inside her!” Trixie released a cough of laughter into her tea, giggling mercilessly. Her mirth caused a soft smile to touch Patsy’s lips. 

As the ginger-haired nurse went to take a sip of her tea, Trixie exclaimed, “Oh, I almost forgot!”

“What?”

“Delia left a message for you,” Trixie said thoughtfully. Was it just her, or did she spot a panicked look come over Patsy’s face before being covered up by her calm façade?

“Oh?” Patsy asked, but Trixie could hear it was an octave high, “What did she have to say?”

“She wanted to let you know that her shift was switched at the hospital, so she won’t be able to go to the cinema with you tonight.” Patsy looked as if she wanted to know more, but just then the phone rang, causing Trixie to look back at the hallway.

“Well, Nurse Crane is on call,” Trixie began, but she was cut short when she heard the unmistakable clatter of a teacup bouncing off the tabletop. Turning back, Trixie leapt up with a gasp.

“Patsy?!” Trixie shrieked, “Patsy, are you alright?!” The other nurse had dropped the teacup as she clutched at her abdomen, her face scrunched up in pain. Training kicking in, Trixie leapt up and knelt down before Patsy, fingers fluttering to her forehead as she tried to soothe the other.

“I need…ambulance,” Patsy hissed between clenched teeth, “hurry…now.” A morbid moan escaped her lips as if to emphasize her point.

“Okay, you stay there, I’m ringing an ambulance!” Trixie exclaimed.

 

Delia  
Delia released a huff as the Junior Doctors at the end of the hall shouted about an acute abdomen that was coming in for Women’s surgical. She had been patting down beds and fluffing pillows in the Men’s post-surgical, and her shift seemed never-ending. A few silent minutes passed before she heard the commotion at down at the emergency entrance. She got up from her post to shut the door when a low, pain-filled groan rent the air, one that was strangely familiar. Poking her head into the corridor, Delia glanced down at the large group that had amassed moments ago.

The first person she recognized was the tall, dark-haired Dr. Turner, who was chasing a gurney as it barreled down the corridor, steered by several surgeons and nurses. As it drew near, she spotted the patient.

“Patsy!” Delia shrieked in disbelief. Their eyes met and Delia saw the recognition through the pain, but Patsy was steered into an adjoining room before she could say anything. Without a second thought, Delia dashed from her station and down the corridor, only to be blocked from the ward by a junior doctor, who was also trying to placate Dr. Turner.

“Sir, you are not allowed in there,” he was saying in a snotty fashion, “It’s the operating room.”

“I know, it’s just – oh, it’s not appendicitis!” Dr. Turner exclaimed with a huff, “She has acute pain on her left side, not her right!”

“Duly noted Dr. Turner, now will you please go and sit down?”

The young man closed the door in their face. The two stood there in a moment of stunned silence before Delia jumped Dr. Turner.

“What-happened-oh-my-god-is-she-alright?!”

The flustered man seemed to just notice that Delia was standing beside him with a pent up breath. Fingering his crumpled hat, Dr. Turner gave the other a lop-sided but rather weak smile.

“You are Nurse Mount’s friend – Delia – right?”

“Yes, is she okay?”

Dr. Turner released a slow breath before saying, “I…I don’t know. I couldn’t carry out a proper examination on the ambulance…but I do know that it’s not a ruptured appendix, if that is any comfort.”

Shaking her head hurriedly, Delia said, “She had her appendix removed shortly after…after she returned from Singapore…” Dr. Turner fixed her with a strange, calculative look.

“You know very well, don’t you?” he asked fondly.

Before she could respond, Delia winced as she heard a sharp voice bark, “Nurse Busby!”

Cringing, Delia turned around as Matron came marching up to them, looking like a vengeance.

“What are you doing out of your station?!” Matron demanded, waving a finger, “You can’t just up and leave your patients whenever you wish!”

Interrupted again, Dr. Turner said in response, “Actually, Matron, one of Nurse Busby’s friends has just been admitted to the OR.” Some of the impatience left Matron’s face. Delia knew that Matron could be cold, but she also knew that she was also a very understanding person.

“I…see,” Matron said slowly, looking between the two.

“Yes Matron, its Pa- I mean Nurse Mount,” Delia tried to explain, while hoping that Matron just might remember…

Recognition spread across the middle aged woman’s face. 

“Oh my,” she said, “Well I hope she is okay… But I think you should finish your shift Nurse Busby, and I’ll see if I can’t let you know when she comes out of surgery.”

“Yes Matron,” Delia said with a curtsy before scurrying off.

 

When her shift finally ended, Delia slipped past the double doors that separated the men’s and women’s floors. She decided to leave her uniform on, so she could get past the nosy matron on the floor who upheld visiting hours as if they were the law of the land. Heart hammering away in her chest, Delia toed down the brightly lit corridor, nervously eyeing both the nurses around her, who might blow her cover, and also the numbers on the doors as she walked by.

She was looking for room 112, and as she past 111 without incident, Delia paused at the next door. Straightening her uniform and trying to place a smile on her face, Delia knocked lightly before twisting the door handle and allowing herself in. It was dim, the only light filtering through the window facing the corridor.  
As her eyes adjusted, Delia whispered quietly, “Oh, Pats!”

Patsy was lying on a plain white cot up against the far side of the room, freshly pressed linen blankets encompassing her body like papoose. She was asleep, albeit in an unnatural way, her hair tangled at odd-ends and her face a strange gray pallor. Delia’s eyes widened as they strayed to Patsy’s IV, which had been heavily taped on her arm, and the pint of blood which was being transfused into her body. Patsy – her tall, strong, Pats – had been reduced to a shrunken figure lying in a pure white hospital room in a comatose state within a matter of hours. Delia wondered to herself if that was what it was like for Patsy, when they got interrupted…

Shaking her head to rid herself of the thought, Delia had the urge to curl up next to Patsy and comfort her slumbering form, when a familiar voice spoke from the shadows.

“Ovarian cyst,” Dr. Turner said, stirring for the first time since she had entered. Jumping at the sound of his voice, Delia observed him sitting in a darkened corner of the room, observing Delia calmly.

“I…what?” Delia stuttered in bewilderment.

“It was an ovarian cyst, apparently the size of a walnut,” Dr. Turner elaborated, “It had ruptured by the time they got her in surgery.” Delia’s eyes returned to Patsy, sorrow coming over her.

“She’s been coming in and out of consciousness for quite some time now,” Dr. Turner continued, “The morphine they gave her did quite the number… she’s been muttering in her sleep.” Delia’s blood went cold as her whole body froze. Dr. Turner was preoccupied with his cufflink for a good moment or so, letting silence stretched between them.

“What did she say?” Delia asked in a hoarse voice. Dr. Turner looked up and met her gaze full on, his expression full of sympathy.

“I couldn’t hear most of it…I think she was having some sort of nightmare at first, whispering about her mother…” A chill unrelated to the temperature ran down Delia’s spine.

“…but then she seemed to fall asleep, for a while, and then, well…” Dr. Turner shrugged and gestured towards Delia, “I think you know what happened then.”  
Delia’s jaw dropped in shock as Dr. Turner observed her with faint alarm.

“Now, Nurse Busby, I really ought to go, but I’ll wait outside for another half an hour and keep the coast clear for you,” he said in a rush, raising up and brushing off his trousers. Delia could do nothing but gape as he left and shut the door behind himself. The moment the door shut, Delia shifted the blinds and raised her eyebrows as she witnessed Dr. Turner post himself directly outside the room.

Stepping back, Delia allowed an impish smile spread across her face as she went and shifted onto the bed, careful to not crush the invalid beneath her weight. Delia ran her fingers through Patsy’s hair, trying to tame it, but not really succeeding. Several quiet minutes went by before the ginger shifted beside her.

“Delia,” Patsy muttered groggily, “Wha’…where am I?”

“Well hello sleepyhead,” Delia tried to say teasingly, but soon her throat was swollen with emotion.

“Delia,” Patsy asked in a slightly more alert tone, “Am I at the London?”

“How observant you are Pats,” Delia joked, “now you just need to tell me your room number and I’ll know you are psychic.”

“I…wait, what happened?” Patsy’s voice was growing more alarmed, it was clear her memories were coming back to her.

“You went into surgery,” Delia whispered, rubbing Patsy’s arms soothingly, “It was a cyst, an ovarian cyst…You are okay, you’re okay, you’re-” But Delia broke off with a choked sob.

“Oh, Deels, I’m so sorry!” Patsy whispered, quickly pulling Delia into a hug.

“You scared me so badly,” Delia sobbed into her hospital gown, “and I couldn’t even comfort you are figure out what the hell was going on with you!”

“I know, I know,” Patsy whispered. There was a pause.

“Deels, I’m all for pushing boundaries, but isn’t this a little risky?” Patsy asked hesitantly.

“Um…” Delia began. She could tell Patsy the truth, explain to her that her unconscious self single-handedly told about them and worry her sick, or just lie.

She lied.

“Oh, I’m sure no one will come in, you were my last ‘check-up’ on the rota.”

“Ah… I wasn’t aware you transferred to women’s surgical!”

“I could’ve sworn I told you! Anyway, I think we have a good fifteen minutes to ourselves…”

Delia never finished her sentence.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
